ART FOR COMMUNITY’S SAKE

I’ve been in Philadelphia over the weekend, visiting arts group and talking with artists and community members about how art can transform communities.  Philadelphia is known as the city of murals, and you wouldn’t be disappointed if you came with the expectation to see a lot of them.  There are huge multistory murals on main streets and in downtown, and there are large and small murals in many, many neighborhoods.  A lot of that is done through the Philadelphia Mural Arts Program (http://muralarts.org/).  I’ve seen many of the wonderful murals they have commissioned, cajoled or inspired, but today I saw what has become my favorite: a garbage truck mural!  A city garbage truck—picking up recycling to be exact—right in the middle of 11^th Street near Lehigh!

I spent some time at the Village of Arts and Humanities in north Philadelphia (http://villagearts.org/).  It is located in a neighborhood that has—or had—a lot of empty lots.  A lot of lots.  Many of these have been transformed by the organization to be gardens of different types: vegetable gardens, where youth and elders were watering (before the thunderstorm broke through the 90 degree heat).  Gardens with mosaic benches and sculptures.  An open air stage.  There was nothing going on when I was there; and there was everything.  There was nothing going on when I was there; and yet, because of the art and the space it created for people, it felt inhabited.

Some of the murals in the Village area were on buildings whose backyards were full of junk and weeds.  Some were on vacant buildings.  Most people in the Philadelphia area probably never venture to see the great art work there, because it’s in “a rough area”.  I last saw the area 8 years ago, when I was still living in Philly, and some things have not changed: beautiful community-created art next to abandoned buildings.  In some ways, that is exactly where art should be: calling attention not primarily to itself, but to the community that created it and lives in and around it, and their longing for justice, healing and love.

I suppose you could ask if all the effort that went into creating the gardens and sculptures and murals and other public art made any difference.  I sometimes ask myself that about our Semilla Community Arts Program and the ministry of our church in general.  But when I was walking through the uninhabited inhabited beauty of those gardens today—smelling the flowers, and stopping under the shade trees, and even keeping an eye out for rats as I walked through an overgrown jungle of weeds—I had no doubt.

Be beauty.  Be justice.

Patrick

AND THEN THERE WAS CHAOS…

We started our day camp week at our church an hour ago, and like most of the ones I’ve done in the last 30 years, the first day is a dance between chaos and order I used to say that the first day was a battle between chaos and order, but now I am seeing that it is more of a dance, where two partners lean into each other, pull away, improvise, come together, sometimes fight.  I’ve worked in inner cities my whole professional life, and so the joys and struggles of such neighborhoods come to camp as well.  Children who pre-registered don’t show up, but a bunch that didn’t do.  Volunteers show up too early or too late.  Young ones at the first camp refuse to leave their mom or older brother; older young ones refuse to even acknowledge that they have a mom with them.

Our theme this week is Creation, and we acted out the creation story in Genesis, using our hands to represent wind, water, sky, plants, trees and animals (including leopards!  And hippos!).  We have values we want to impart to these children: respect, sharing, care for the earth.  We are teaching skills in mosaic and photography and urban gardening.  But my hope is that the main thing we are teaching is that they have been created by a loving God and called to be creative.  Incredibly creative. 

I see the wonder and joy of that creativity in the littlest ones, and at times it is a struggle to contain it!  I also see how even the 10 year olds are already looking at their peers to see if it’s OK to sing, or act like a hippo or do anything risky.  How our social life—and in many ways our educational system and even our church life—beats the creativity down in us!  I want to say to the older kids: you’re great—just let loose!  (I do have to say to a lot of them—including some volunteers—please sit down!)

This is how the story of the great creation begins: “In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters.”  The Hebrew word for wind also means spirit or breath, so that “sweeping over the face of the waters” can take on so many levels of meaning.

This is what I want to take away from it this beautiful morning: the wind blows where it will. It will blow the daylights out of our plans sometime this week, I’m sure.  But if we listen and watch, it will also blow some amazing things around.

Be wind!  Be beauty.  Be the justice of everyone is a creator.

Patrick